


Roger That

by flamingburningfandomtrash



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Light Angst, Separation Anxiety, Stuffed Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:01:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23384920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flamingburningfandomtrash/pseuds/flamingburningfandomtrash
Summary: You're heading off on a two-night trip with Alphys and Undyne...and leaving Sans by himself with his nightmares.Oops.
Relationships: Sans (Undertale)/Reader
Comments: 19
Kudos: 69





	Roger That

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sneakyfox55](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sneakyfox55/gifts).



> look man  
> i am twenty chapters ahead with Blueberry and i needed an outlet  
> so i rifled through all of my old stuff and found half of this and finished the rest  
> i need more fluffy ideas this was so much fun

A forehead kiss means protection.  
It’s respect. It means “You’re mine. Don’t ever leave my side.”  
It says “I care about you, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”  
It says “I’ll come between you and whatever tries to hurt you.”  
It says “I love you, and you’re my baby.”  
It means “If you die, I will die with you."

~~~~~

“Hey…” you say that with a “sorry” accent in your voice.

“what happened?” Sans asks, grinning. He’s sitting at the table doing a crossword when you walked in. You have your hands behind your back, holding something large and purple. He doesn’t even ask what it is yet. 

“So, Alphys and Undyne invited me on a girl thing?” 

“uh-huh.” 

Yeah, your ‘girl trips’ happen every once in a while. He doesn’t bother asking if he can come- he knows strict Girl Code involves “no boys allowed”. At least, that’s how Undyne explained it to him. Very loudly. 

“A two-night thing,” you add, apologetically.

“oh.”

So THAT’S what it is. See, you try to never leave him for more than one night, because he struggles with nightmares most nights. That, or insomnia. You being there for him is really helpful a lot of the time. Two-nighters make his anxiety spike. He’s normally pretty shaky emotionally until he can see you again.

“So, I got you this.”

You hand him a large, purple dinosaur plushie- it’s incredibly soft and squishy. Little rainbow-colored spikes run down its back. It has little embroidered angry eyes, like it’s pouting at him. He takes it from you, squeezes it, and looks back at you for an explanation. You shrug- there isn’t much of one to give.

“See, I thought, if I can’t be there, you need something soft to hug, so, this.”

You look so awkward. He laughs and stands, giving you a hug. “can’t replace your hugs, but, then again, it’s probably the next best thing. what’d you name him?”

“I thought you’d want to.”

“we both know you named it in the first two seconds you saw it.”

“… Roger,” you admit, blushing a little. 

“cute. alrighty then, you should probably go get packing. me and roger are gonna hang out down here.”

“Okay- thanks.”

“no prob, bob.”

You head up the stairs- he can already hear a little bit of victory in your gait. Yeah, he can see you getting the invitation and being a bit disappointed. Wouldn’t want to leave Sans in a tough spot. He can see you trying to figure out how to make it up to him. What would he miss most about you? He chuckles to himself at the thought. No, not what he’d miss most: what would be the easiest to replace. It’s pretty difficult to replace a smile that can light up a room or a kiss that makes you melt into the nearest surface. So, hugs. 

Where’d you even get this, anyway? It doesn’t have a tag. Probably for the best. Tags are itchy, and he never has the energy to cut them off. Speaking of not having enough energy for things, just feeling this soft little buddy is making him sleepy. It certainly can’t replace you. But maybe a reminder of you will be enough. For two nights, at least.

Yeah, you aren’t leaving immediately. And you’ll wake him up before you have to go. He shortcuts onto the couch, snuggles the stuffed dino to his chest, and dozes off. 

~~~~~

You feel a deep guilt as you pack. Ugh. You really can’t wait for this trip- a lake trip, from what Alphys told you, it sounds fantastic- but leaving Sans to himself this long can be hard for him. That probably sounds like the two of you are an incredibly clingy couple- but you’ve just gotten really close. Not to mention nights are the hardest. You sigh. That dinosaur is a lame excuse for leaving him to himself twice in a row. Stupid nightmares. Stupid insomnia. You zip up the hard-shell red bag and drop it on the floor. He’s only going to insist further that you go if you try to stay home for his sake. He just rolls that way. 

Maybe its his older brother instinct combined with having to grow up dealing with someone as innocent as Papyrus… but sometimes you feel like he’s bottling things up. He’s fine with anything, playing it off even when you know he’s uncomfortable or nervous or sad. You always try to take his emotions into account, you always try to help. You don’t know it- but it makes him happy to see you try so hard to make him happy. Whether or not your efforts succeed: the EFFORT is enough to brighten his mood.

Now, the only time you’ve ever seen him act out of pure emotion (pure bad emotion that is, he’d do anything for a joke) when somebody tried slipping something in your drink at a bar a while ago. Sans had caught it before you brought it to your lips, thank god, but he’d been angry as HELL. You were just shaky afterwards. Come to think of it, that’s probably why he sweats when someone brings up getting drinks now.

Whatever. You’re probably more stressed about this than he is. And you’ll give him free rein to call you at whatever hour he wants. Maybe that’ll do it.

~~~~~  
“don’t stress about me. i’ll be fine. ‘m not three, y’know. enjoy your trip.”

You cross your arms, look away. Undyne is putting your luggage in the car- she gave you exactly one minute to say goodbye. You can’t decide whether you’re relieved or devastated by that fact.

“You’ll eat something besides ketchup?”

“sure.”

“And you’ll try to get some sleep.”

“‘course, you met me?”

“You’ll call me if you need anything?”

“nobody’s stopping me.”

You sigh and hug him, squeezing tightly. He hugs back, silently cherishing the hug and trying to memorize the way it feels. Your lithe frame against his stocky one.

“don’t get hurt or nothin’, ok?” he mumbles, bumping his mouth to the side of your head.

“Duh,” you respond, kissing his forehead.

Undyne honks behind you- you can hear some anime intro start up at top volume from inside the car. You pull away from Sans, hesitating only for a second to give him one more quick hug, and head out. 

“Love you! Don’t forget about Roger!!”

“love ya- i won’t.”

He waves as the car pulls out of the driveway, down the street, away. Somehow, he gets the feeling this is going to be harder than originally planned. 

…

Welp, when in doubt, call Paps.

~~~~~  
“OF COURSE I CAN COME OVER!”

He says this like they haven’t seen each other in months. Sans saw him earlier the previous morning, just like always, for breakfast and puns and a good early-morning dose of screaming. He thinks he’d break into pieces if he didn’t see Paps often enough.

“thanks, bro.”

“NO PROBLEM!! I CAN’T WAIT!!”

Sans looks up as the doorbell rings behind him.

“literally can’t wait, huh?”

“SANS!!”

“alright, alright, i’ll get the door.”

~~~~~

Alphys looks over at you as you drum your fingers on the door, a slight frown on your face. Brooding, she thinks the word was.

“Y-y-you okay?”

“Oh-” you look up and smile- “yeah, sorry.”

“Worried about your boyfriend?!” Undyne asks, teasingly.

“Yep,” you sigh. “I hate leaving him alone. His nightmares get so bad sometimes.”

“Well, think about it this way: maybe he won’t sleep at all!”

“Gee, thanks,” you say, sarcastically. “Really helps.”

“Sure!”

While Undyne cackles, Alphys puts her hand on your shoulder.

“I-I’m sure he’ll be fine. F-feel free t-t-to call him w-whenever you want, okay?”

“Thanks, Al.”

You know for a fact you’re going to do just that.

~~~~~

The first night was a breeze for everyone. You, ALphys, and Undyne stayed up crazy late, Sans and Pap got a good night’s rest (at the same time, for once) and Roger was left forgotten on the dining room table. Maybe the universe, striving and determined to spite both Sans and you, didn’t like this. Maybe it was all coincidence. But one thing is for sure: night two would not go so smoothly. 

Unfortunately for the universe, it seemed it forgot about Roger as well.

~~~~~  
“so, how was your day?” Sans asks, kicking back on the couch and listening to you. He loves listening to you tell stories. You could tell him about how you filed taxes and he could probably listen for hours. 

“Great! We got to go down to the south part of the lake today, it was beautiful. I nearly got killed, though.”

“how so?”

“Some idiot in a boat came too close. Smacked me in the face and I went under for a bit longer than, y’know, is healthy for us people who need air. Got a bump on my forehead now, but we got some ice and it should be fine. UNDYNE-“ you say this with the clear intent of her hearing- “LAUGHED at me… but hey, I lived. Least I didn’t hit the motor or the rudder or anything. How was your day?”

“fine. pap had to run because mettaton needed a volunteer for his show,” he says, half-disgustedly. “sometimes we don’t get along, i know that, but mettaton, just… ugh.”

“Wait, but that means you’ll be by yourself tonight.”  
“yep.”

“Sans…”

“hey, don’t stress, remember? i know i can call ya whenever.”

“Don’t forget about Roger, alright? Don’t forget.”

“i won’t.”

“Promise?”

“. . .yeah, i promise. only for you, y’know.”

“I know,” you say, gratefully. “Thanks. Just worried.”

“don’t be.”

You both pause for a minute, just sitting in the companionable silence. You’ve said everything that needed saying a while ago, you’re all caught up when it comes to one another’s lives. And that means the current moment can be spent in silence. Finally, you say,

“I love you, y’know.”

He sighs- he knows that voice. “don’t cry, ok? i’m going to be fine. you’ll be home tomorrow, worst comes to worst i wait to sleep until you’re back.” 

“Yeah- yeah, I know.”

“love ya, sweetheart.”

“Love you.”

“bye.”

“Bye.”

When you hang up, you start sniffling a little bit. He’d better not get nightmares, damnit. Sans knows what’s happening on your end, because he’s seen it happen before, but doesn’t call you. You just need a minute and a hug. He can really only give you a minute, heh. 

He thinks about the day he met you. You nearly ran him over, was the thing. You weren’t looking at the crosswalk, he wasn’t looking out for cars. In the split second before your car killed him, he knew he had to shortcut. And in that second, the first place he thought to shortcut was inside of your car. You were screaming, and you ended up totaling your car on a light pole. Nobody was hurt in the end, though, that’s what mattered. What’s funny was, even after all of that, you were staring at the smoking front of your car, and then at the skeleton currently frozen in the shotgun seat, and you weren’t mad. All you could manage was,

“W-what’s your name?”

“uh… sans.”

“Hi.”

“hi.”

“Sans… what’s one reason I should like you right now.”

“i… can pay for your car.”

“Good answer. Good answer.”

You shook his hand, stepped out of your car, and essentially just sat on the back of the crushed vehicle and talked to him while the tow truck came. Much as you wanted to dislike him, he made it damn hard. He was just too friendly. One exchange of numbers and hang-outs later, you kissed him on the couch, and the rest is history. But that’s Sans’ favorite part, honestly. YOU kissed HIM first. You had confidence. He liked confidence. 

He thinks about you until it’s nearly time for him to go to bed.

~~~~~

We’ve all been home alone at some point or another. We’ve all felt the strange loneliness and eeriness that nobody else is there, that we’re the leader of a realm nobody else lives in. It’s a headrush of power to some, and a terrifying experience for others. Some of us fill the void of silence with music, maybe with chores, maybe with talking to ourselves. 

Sans? Sans just acts like you’re waiting for him, asleep in bed, so he can crawl in next to you, feel a reassuring hug loop around his chest, fall asleep knowing once again that you’re safe with him. He does all the little household things that you would normally help him with- dishes and sweeping and laundry, before kicking on his slippers, then heading upstairs. Geez, even the slippers remind him of you. When you’d met him the first time, he was wearing his old ones, the ones he wore them everywhere he went. You made him give you one to look at, after the first couple of dates- nearly worn down into holes, the once-fluffy tops and soles worn down into smooth clumps of cloth. You looked at him and asked,

“Sans, how long have you had these?”

“since i was a kid. what’s wrong with ‘em?”

“They’re falling apart, why haven’t you bought new ones?”

“you can… you can do that?”

“We’re going right now,” you said, taking his hand and dragging him to the car. You’d taken him to a little shoe store and waved your arm at the wide array of comfy shoes. 

Slippers- the ones you can just kick on, like his, and ones with tassels. Household shoes, leather, fur, fluff, silk. Everything you could possibly imagine. He’d tried on practically every pair, learning that the old slippers were two sizes too small for him. That explains why his toes always felt crushed. He finally decided on a a pair of pink ones that looked basically the same as the old ones, but were his proper size and had much more cushioning on the bottom. “You don’t have anything to make walking comfy, like skin, so we have to find you something with a lot of squish,” you’d explained, tossing him a few pairs with that description. “Try these.” It felt like every step was like walking on a cloud. You’d paid for them yourself. That was when he knew you were a keeper.

Sans realizes he’s frozen at the top of the stairs, rocking back and forth on his feet to feel the little bounce. Nothing like his old ones. Better. He shakes his head and heads toward the bathroom, to get a shower in before heading to bed. Or maybe he’s just stalling. 

God, he knows he’s stalling.

He just sighs and walks into the bathroom.

~~~~~

“Punk, SLEEP,” Undyne says, slugging you in the arm. She has really long arms, you notice- you thought you were safe in the bottom bunk, but apparently not. She can even tell you’re awake, geez. “Bone-boy is gonna be fine. At this rate HE won’t be the one with the sleep problems.”

“I’m just… waiting for a call,” you say, holding onto your phone a bit tighter. “I’m sure he’ll be fine, I just don’t want him to think I’m… I don’t want to miss it if he needs me.”

“M-Maybe he’ll b-b-be okay? On his own?” Alphys suggests, rubbing your arm. “You gave him the purple dinosaur, d-didn’t you? Maybe he c-c-can do it.”

“I- I just- I dunno.”

“Have some faith in him, scrub. He’s been through some shit none of us could survive. He can hold the fort down for one night.”

You nod. It’s so hard to stay awake when you’re so comfortable. The pillow wedged under the blankets behind you mimics a certain warmth and softness of being held, protected. You can almost, just ALMOST, pretend it’s him.

~~~~~  
Sans’ hollow smile stretches a bit, painfully, when he finally has to face the empty bedroom, your side all made neatly. Not ruined and rumpled, ready for him to hop in and pass out. He can barely remember the last time he had to pull down the sheets himself. It hurts a little, but mostly he’s just wary of nightmares. Insomnia- that sucks, that’s anxious and painful, but he isn’t thrown into realities where you die. Where Pap or Tori die. His close friends. His family.

He shakes his head and teleports Roger up from downstairs, snapping him into the air and catching him. Soft. Not the kind of soft he wants right now, but damn close. A poor substitution for you, but… a substitution he needs nonetheless. The little angry eyes frown at him, even though the thing doesn’t have a mouth. He chuckles in the silence, pulling it under his arm and pulling back the sheets, opening the cool mattress for him.

‘shouldn’t be cold. should be warm,’ he thinks, frowning. 

He slides in anyway, tossing Roger beside him on top of the blankets: “night,” he says, to no-one in particular. And then he forces himself to try and sleep.

It doesn’t seem to work, no matter how hard he tries. The sound of the waves outside are too loud. He drags himself out of bed, annoyed. Damn ocean, sometimes he thinks he can’t stand it. He crosses to the window, wondering if the noises are so loud because he left it open. It doesn’t appear to be that way- he looks out at the wide sea right outside of his yard, smiling a little. When you get home, you and him should go on a boat ride. He can see it now, piloting a little boat- it’s easy to imagine, since one is crossing the waves right now, even in this wild water.

‘what kind of dummy is trying to do anything in this weather?’ he thinks, squinting a bit at him. There are so many waves… and they’re so tall. He comes over the white crest of one with a wild whoop, swinging his hand in the air and crying out triumphantly. Maybe normally Sans would laugh a little at the crazy antics- but he can see you (Why are you out there? This late? Shouldn’t you be with ALphys and Undyne?) on the other side of the wave. You’re swimming towards the front door, nonchalant-looking. The boat drops: right onto you.

“no,” he says, sucking in a breath of disbelief. You don’t resurface. “no!” he tries to turn- he tries to open the window, tries to pound on the glass, tries to MOVE or BREATHE, but he CAN’T-

The water in the ocean is turning white, colder, into ice. The room around him fills with snow, the landscape is coated with snow and trees and ice and stone- he doesn’t remember getting on his knees, but he’s holding a wet scarf, covered in dust, pain lurching his soul into pieces.

“pap…”

The snow is all dust, and he’s falling into it. It’s filling his skull, crushing in through his smile, through his eyesockets, through his nasal cavity-

He wakes up with a start, sitting up abruptly and coughing as if that would get the dust out of his skull. He takes a few deep, deep breaths, then stumbles to his feet to look out the window. Just houses. Just more street. No ocean. No snow. 

No… dust. 

He slides down, turning away from the window, knees pulled to his chest. Everything is freezing. It’s too cold. He puts his forehead on his knees, taking a long sigh. It’s safe, you’re fine. You’re just with Alphys and Undyne. That’s all. Pap is just hanging out with Mettaton. Sans- he’s not going to lie, he doesn’t feel much better with that thought, but he supposes its better than death.

He draws out his soul, hoping to try and calm it. He can see the faint tinge of pink on it, where you bonded him. He strokes over his own soul gently, breathing long and slow like you always tell him to. Feeling your soul against his, he can imagine what you’d say.

“Get back in bed, bonehead, you’re shaking. You’re going to be the first skeleton to catch a cold.”

He pulls himself to his feet, returning his soul to his still-heaving chest, despite feeling like he’s going to throw up, and crawls under the sheets.

“Good… sheesh, you’re still cold. It’s alright, I’ll be home in a couple hours, we can take a warm nap then.”

He sighs longingly at the prospect- he can feel warm, nearly invisible fingers drift over his skull, petting him, coaxing him off to sleep.

“Don’t forget Roger, okay? Get some sleep.”

He can imagine you pressing a kiss to his forehead, cuddling up to his front. He pulls the stuffed animal tightly to his sternum, nearly letting it hug him, before drifting off. 

~~~~~  
When you shuffle up to the front door of the house the next morning, half-crashing sluggishly into Sans’ arms, you feel the fierce bite of irony. You did not get a wink of sleep last night, much as you thought you would. He can see it in your face, the sour expression of the comedy of it, the dark circles, as you crush him in a hug.

“why the long face?” he asks, though he knows full well. “jealous i got a full night’s sleep?”

“Hell yeah I am. We’re sleeping all day.”

“i like the sound of that.”

Gathering you up in a bridal carry, tucking your head to his collarbone, he picks up your stuff and teleports it upstairs. 

“Did’ja have nightmares?” you ask, lazily, reaching up to pet his skull. 

“only one,” he says, smiling genuinely. “roger helped me out.”

“I’m- *yawn*- glad.”

“you’re really tired,” he points out. “like a bicy-“

“Do not make the bike joke,” you say, pressing your finger to his teeth before he can continue. “Two-tired, haha, how hilarious, lemme get some sleep.”

“heh. you have to admit it’s funny.”

“Stop it, stop, it’s not,” you say, your smile betraying you. “It’s not, let me sleep.”

“yeah, sure,” he says, grinning.

When the two of you finally collapse into a heap on the bed, you don’t even bother with the sheets. You just pull him closer, resting his head on yours and kissing his sternum softly.

“I was so frickin’ worried, Sans, you have no idea.”

“well, ‘m here now. ‘m protectin’ you, and me.”

“You don’t have to say it like that,” you remind him, letting him pull himself flush around you. “Like we’re in… danger.”

“feels safe to say it out loud,” he says, quieter. “feels real.”

“Well, okay then,” you shrug. “Can’t argue with that logic, can I?”

He mimics the comforting touch he felt the night before on you, fingers ghosting over your forehead, curving around your ear, and trailing down your shoulder. One last forehead kiss, and he falls asleep around you. You’re quick to follow.

**Author's Note:**

> leave me some ideas  
> even if it's been two months  
> or two years  
> leave me fluffffffffffy ideas
> 
> *cough* because blueberry just keeps getting gradually darker for a bit so yall might need some happiness *cough*  
> (i only do UT and UF btw :) )


End file.
